


Bitty Bites

by aroseandapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Babybones (Undertale), Bad Puns, Brotherly Fluff, Christmas day shenanigans, Death Idealization, Fluff, Papyrus Fails a Date, Papyrus-centric, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Pre-Undertale, papyrus has trouble sleeping, sans is used to being woken up suddenly by his bro, sans still worries about resets sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroseandapen/pseuds/aroseandapen
Summary: A compilation of one-shots, mostly Papyrus-centric, focusing on the (platonic) relationships between characters and their thoughts on the world.Warnings in each chapter, some will be more light-hearted than others.





	1. Late Night Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the surface, the skelebros eventually moved out on their own. That doesn't mean they're any less close, and Papyrus is always there for his brother. Even if Sans decides to call him in the middle of the night for a little reassurance.

Papyrus woke up to the trill of his phone. He blinked his eye sockets against the near complete dark of his room, save for the moonlight streaming in through his blinds and the soft glow of his phone screen. ‘Lazybones’ was calling him.

He answered before it could ring a third time.

“HELLO? SANS?” His voice sounded hoarse, groggy with sleep, and he cringed knowing that his brother could be able to hear it, too.

“h-hey bro…” There was a forced casualness to the voice, and the barest tremor of Sans’ words that Papyrus could only detect after knowing his brother for his entire life.

Papyrus didn’t point out how late it was, how the both of them had work and responsibilities early in the morning and needed to get the rest that he’d learned to appreciate since coming to the surface. They knew how late it was. Sans didn’t call him in the middle of the night just for a chat.

“YES? CAN I HELP YOU?”

There was a shaky inhale and a long, long exhale as Papyrus patiently waited for his brother to speak.

“what…” A pause as Sans seemingly lost his nerve. “do you remember what we did yesterday? having trouble jogging my memory, you know.”

As much as Sans tried to brush it off, as silly a question as it seemed, Papyrus knew that it wasn’t because of any sort of problem with memory loss. No, he knew where the question stemmed from, even so long after the source had ended. That was why he didn’t tease him for it, even for calling to ask such a thing in the middle of the night.

Instead he answered, recounting the previous day to the best of his ability. His own memory wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. It was enough as it was.

As Papyrus wrapped up his response with a lighthearted reminder that Sans had _papers_ to grade now and that he couldn’t shirk his duties like the lazybones that he must wasn't to be, there was another soft release of breath on the other end of the line, a sigh of relief this time.

“thanks bro. sorry for waking you up like this. you know how bad my memory is.”

“NONSENSE!” Papyrus was quick to reassure him, a part of him wishing that Sans wouldn’t be so dismissive about his own problems. “YOU CAN CALL ME ANYTIME FOR ANY REASON AT ALL!”

He could almost feel his brother’s smile when he spoke again. “heh, thanks. have i ever told you that you’re the coolest?”

Papyrus grinned, even if Sans couldn’t see it. He drew himself up in his bed, a fist on his hips in a proud stance. “ONLY ALL THE TIME! AND IT IS STILL VERY TRUE! DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO SLEEP.”

“going back to sleep would require me to have been asleep to start with,” Sans said with a shaky laugh.

A frown flickered across Papyrus’ expression and he relaxed, curling forward as he adjusted his phone to hold it between his shoulder and skull. “HAVE YOU BEEN UP ALL THIS TIME, SANS? YOU SHOULD’VE CALLED ME A LONG TIME AGO!”

“it’s no big deal, bro. didn’t want to bother you.”

“IT _IS_ A BIG DEAL,” Papyrus insisted, brow bones knitted together as he frowned at the phone. “IF YOU’RE HAVING TROUBLE WITH ANYTHING, I WANT TO HELP YOU. DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE SLEEPING?”

He wasn’t physically there, but he wanted to know if there was anything that he could possibly do despite that.

“well, there might be one thing.”

“WHAT IS IT?”

“could you…” There was a long pause, so long that Papyrus thought that Sans might not say anything more at all. “…tell me a pun?”

What.

“REALLY, BROTHER?” Papyrus groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “CAN’T YOU BE SERIOUS HERE?”

“i am being serious, bro! i bet if you told me a pun that would put me right into the mood to sleep like a babybones all night.”

Papyrus didn’t quite believe that. His face fell, annoyance scrawled across his scowl. This was another way to get on his nerves. After he was so worried for Sans, too! Ugh!

“please, paps? i’d really ‘ppreciate it.”

He let out a harsh sigh.

“ _FINE_. JUST THIS ONCE, THOUGH.”

Papyrus hesitated. Being asked to tell a pun put a pressure on him that made it near impossible to think of anything. Clever wordplay needed _context_ , even if he knew that Sans would enjoy whatever effort he threw into it. He shouldn’t even entertain this silly request, but there was the chance that Sans truly would sleep better after a little joke.

“IF… IF I TRIED TO TELL YOU A JOKE DURING THIS CALL, I’D REALLY BE… _PHONING_ IT IN.”

Yikes, that wasn’t his best work. He found himself cringing into the silence after he let that one loose. After an agonizing few seconds, he heard Sans chuckle.

He let himself relax, releasing the tension he hadn’t realized that had been building up.

“I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY. THAT WAS AWFUL.”

“i am. thanks so much bro. i know i’ll be getting a skele- _ton_ of shut eye tonight, thanks to you.”

“UGH, REALLY SANS. YOU BETTER.” His disgruntled tone softened. “GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER. I HOPE YOU SLEEP WELL. PLEASE CALL ME IF YOU NEED ME.”

“will do. night, paps. thanks again,” came the smiling reply before there was a click as Sans hung up.

If Papyrus felt his interrupted sleep in the morning, he didn’t mind. Even now that they lived apart, Sans was still one of the most important people in the world to him. That would never change. Not even with a million repeats of the call, as long as Sans needed the reminder that there hadn’t been a RESET.

And there never would be one again.


	2. Cheer Up Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus has his bad days. And sometimes he actually appreciates the company of that annoying little dog.

Another late night.

Papyrus groaned, flipping onto his side. He had a pillow squeezed against his chest, face half-buried in it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t fall asleep. The longer he laid awake like this, the more his frustration at his inability to sleep grew.

Part of him wished that Sans would wake up somehow, and come check on him. Maybe Sans would teach him how to actually sleep, since his brother was pretty much the master of it. The other part of him knew that it wouldn't happen. His brother slept like the dead. In any case, Papyrus didn't want to admit that, maybe, he sometimes would actually like to sleep. Sans would never let him hear the end of it, he was sure. Him, becoming a lazybones just like his brother. Or perhaps Sans would actually be happy to help him. It didn't matter, anyway. There was no way that Sans would ever wake up unless Papyrus went right down the hall to his room and hammered on his door.

His door creaked, inching open. Papyrus jolted upright, sockets wide. Did… did Sans somehow sense that he was having trouble, and come to check up on him.

"BROTHER?"

A small white dog hopped up onto the bed, stomping all over his dashed hopes.

“UGH!”

Papyrus threw himself down onto his back. His skull thumped against his bed frame, making him wince and groan at the sharp pain.

He felt the dog trot up, nosing at the side of his face. The nose was cold, and he huffed, pushing its head away from his face.

“GO AWAY, YOU MUTT! YOU AREN’T MAKING THIS ANY EASIER FOR ME!”

A warm, wet tongue dragged up, between his fingers, and Papyrus choked on his words.

“EUGH, GROSS!!!” he exclaimed with a full-body shudder. He rubbed his hand against the comforter, trying to scrub away the feeling of slobber from his bones. “WHY ARE YOU SO AWFUL?”

As if in answer, the dog turned about a few times before settling down at his side, head resting on his ribcage. It gazed up at him, soft and warm and… ok, maybe it was a little cute.

He gave the head a little rub. It closed his eyes in contentment, a bit of tongue peeking out from its mouth. Papyrus let out a soft laugh at the sight. Perhaps when the dog wasn't busy getting into his things and snagging his bones, it could be a little bit endearing. Papyrus pushed his fingers through the soft fur, finding comfort of the feeling against his phalanges. Warm, comforting. He enjoyed the soft shifting as the dog breathed, relaxed against him.

“OK. YOU CAN STAY HERE. BUT ONLY TONIGHT.”

Resigning himself for sharing his bed with the dog tonight, he allowed himself to relax back into his mattress. He had to admit, there was something comforting about having a warm body beside him, feeling the soft breathing of another being so close.

“DON’T GET USED TO IT.”


	3. How To: Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus has been aware of the RESETs for as long as he can remember. The problem is that he has no memory of them. At least he is assured of one thing: if he happens to die, then he will always come back. His death doesn't matter.
> 
> A vent drabble detailing his thoughts on death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Description of Papyrus' death and some death idealization

He wonders what it’s like to die.

It’s happened before. Countless times, he knows, but he doesn’t remember. Does dying hurt? Is the moment before he becomes dust painful? Sometimes it occurs to him to ask his brother, the only monster that he knows who is aware of the RESETs; the only one of the two brothers who can _remember_ the RESETs.

He doesn’t ask. Papyrus has more tact than that. His brother doesn’t need the reminder of the loop their lives run on, a closed circle where their lives don’t matter and their deaths matter even less. Sans doesn’t even know that he’s aware. It’s better that way, Papyrus thinks.

One less thing for Sans to worry about.

Does it matter, if it hurts or not? Papyrus doesn’t remember his death, so whether it hurts or not doesn’t matter. He’ll find out anyway, sooner rather than later, and it’s better that he meets it with no expectations, with minimal fear.

It does hurt, as it turns out, as he learns again and again, each time that it happens.

Sometimes it’s a knife, a child’s toy, or it’s the human’s own gloved fists, or it’s nothing more than a stick. The weapon isn’t as important as the human’s intent, that moment where he tries to spare them and they _want_ to kill him. It’s the desire that strikes his very soul, snapping his neck. The snow against his skull burns, everything is spinning, and he feels himself unraveling at the seams.

He’s saying something, probably clever, but he can’t hear his own voice over the loud roar that surrounds him, that feels like it’s crushing his skull beneath the sheer noise. Everything is pulled down to his very soul. He can only _feel_ , and everything is pain and he’s scared and _he doesn’t want to die he wants his brother it hurts it hurts and he’s scared_.

Papyrus feels the moment his soul shatters, tearing itself to shreds, and it all happens in an eternity that lasts all of one second.

And then it no longer matters. He wakes up after what feels like another second and he doesn’t remember and he wonders if it hurt. But he doesn’t ask and he doesn’t try to find out. He doesn’t even know if the last run ended in his death or not, and Sans isn’t giving him any hint of it.

In the end the pain matters about as little as whether he lives or dies. And when he wakes he doesn’t care about any of it.


	4. DATING: FAILED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the sentence prompt: "Your dates have gone worse."
> 
> Papyrus isn't new to the dating scene, and he may be great and cool and suave and amazing at dating, but... well his biggest dating "success" is currently "the least horrific failure".
> 
> He'll get there eventually. Maybe. And if not, he'll always have his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests on my tumblr: http://aroseandapen.tumblr.com

“HE HATES ME!”

“he doesn’t hate you, bro. i’m sure he just needs some space.”

“HE DOES! HE TRIED TO GET AWAY SO FAST THAT HE FELL OVER AND TOOK THE TABLECLOTH AND EVERYTHING ON IT TO THE GROUND WITH HIM!”

“hey, that was just a clumsy accident.”

“EVERYONE WAS STARING! THEY WATCHED HIM RUN AWAY FROM ME, SANS! EVERYONE KNEW WHAT AN AWFUL DATE I’D MADE, AND IT WAS ALL MY FAULT!”

“well, your dates have gone worse. nothing caught on fire this time; that’s pretty much a success.”

“I _KNOW_! THAT’S THE WORST PART!” Papyrus threw himself across his bed, wailing into his pillow. He couldn’t believe what a disaster the night had been. And every person in that restaurant knew of his failures, too! They’d be telling stories of it to their social circles for years to come. “THIS ISN’T EVEN THE _WORST_ I’VE DONE, AND TONIGHT WAS A DISASTER!”

Sans patted his back in an attempt at reassurance. So far it wasn’t working. “there, there, bro. maybe you can still save this. maybe you can call him, tell him that you _didn’t_ know that there was a wasp living inside the flower, or that he was incredibly phobic towards them?”

He raised his face from the pillows to give Sans a stern look.

“IT WAS A HORNET, SANS, NOT A WASP. AND I CAN’T POSSIBLY SALVAGE THIS! HE’S GOING TO HATE ME FOREVER. I’M GOING TO LIVE A LIFE OF SOLITUDE, DOOMED TO NEVER FIND LOVE, TO TAKE AFFECTION AND DESTROY IT BEFORE IT HAS A CHANCE TO BLOOM!”

“hey, don’t worry, bro, you won’t have to be alone. i’ll always be with you. and my self-sustaining trash tornado will probably eventually become sentient, so you’ll have that as well.”

The touched look on Papyrus’ face dropped at the reminder of Sans’ disaster area of a room. He groaned, dropping his head back down into his pillows. Maybe he could die by smothering himself, despite the lack of the need to breathe at all.

“THAT WAS ALMOST SWEET, SANS.”

Leave it to his brother to ruin what could’ve been a touching moment.

“heh. it’s what i do best, paps. but really. forget that guy. i’m sure you’ll get the hang of this dating thing sooner or later. the great papyrus can do anything.”

Well. That was true, anyway. He peeked out at Sans, leaning over him with a sympathetic smile, his eyelights aglow with a soothing warmth that seemed to chase away the humiliation of a date gone horribly wrong. For all his annoying habits and irritating quirks, his brother somehow had a way of making Papyrus feel a little better.

“you wanna watch some mttv? get your mind off of things?”

And he knew just the cure to Papyrus’ great upset.

“GREAT IDEA!” he said, shooting upright even if all he wanted to do was continue laying there sobbing into his pillow for the next few weeks. “YOU KNOW, HE HAS THIS NEW COOKING SHOW, AND…”

No, Papyrus wouldn’t let a few failed dates get him down. He’d figure things out eventually. He was still learning how to be the perfect man!

Sans was right, after all. He was The Great Papyrus!

(And maybe first he _would_ call his poor victim of a date, and make sure he’d at least gotten home alright. Disaster or not, the future perfect dating skeleton had a duty to the subject of his affections!)


	5. Persistence Pays Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What sort of freak shows up at a person’s house in the middle of the night just to demand to be let into the Royal Guard? (A tall, excitable skeleton freak, apparently.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests on my tumblr: http://aroseandapen.tumblr.com

She sunk into the warmth of her bed, letting out a deep sigh as her aching muscles relaxed into the soft cushions. It had been a hard day of patrolling and training and checking on the various guardsman to worked under her, and Undyne was more than ready to get a nice full night of sleep.

In minutes, she’d fallen fast asleep.

**_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!_ **

Her eyes popped open as she jerked upright, confused and blinking in the darkness of her room. Her soul pulsed wildly in her chest as her gaze darted around the room in search of the sound.

**_KNOCK, KNOCK_ **

The door?

Undyne frowned, at last managing to compose herself just enough to comprehend what was going on. Someone was knocking at the front door, and it was—she glanced at the clock on her wall—1AM in the morning. Who in their right mind would come out to her house and bother her at this time of night?

She was tempted to throw herself back down against her pillows and ignore whoever was knocking.

**_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_ **

But it could be important…

**_KNOCK KNOCK!_ **

She was the captain of the Royal Guard after all. Her duties never ended, even when she was down to sleep for the night.

**_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_ **

Letting out a long sigh, Undyne threw her legs over the side of the bed. She was sluggish in pulling herself up onto her feet and shuffling over to where her robe hung over the knob on her bedroom door. She shrugged it on as she went to answer the door.

“OH! HELLO, CAPTAIN UNDYNE!”

It was a skeleton.

She blinked, her mouth twisted into a little frown as she looked the monster up and down. He was fully dressed, unlike her, and was filled with so much energy that he looked like he’d just woken up ready for the day, as if it wasn’t an ungodly hour to wake someone up at.

Part of her _hoped_ that he had something very distressing that he needed help with. He appeared too cheerful for that, and if she weren’t cranky and exhausted it might be endearing to her.

“Is there something wrong, citizen?” she asked, voice rough with sleep.

“YES! WAIT, I MEAN NO! WELL, SORT OF. WELL, WHAT I MEAN TO SAY IS!” Her eye twitched as the skeleton stumbled briefly over his words. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND I HAVE COME TO REQUEST—NO, NO, _DEMAND_ , AS POLITELY AS POSSIBLE—TO BE ALLOWED TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! IMMEDIATELY!”

Undyne slammed the door in his face.

Seriously? She’d gotten out of bed for this?

Disgruntled now, in addition to already being exhausted from a long-ass day, Undyne dragged a hand over her face as she headed back to her room. A faint part of her scolded herself for such a rude response to a clearly enthusiastic citizen, but she thoroughly ignored such a part of her. He needed to learn some common decency! And she was _not_ about to coddle some loser who hammered on a woman’s door at 1AM.

At least the dude seemed to have understood. He didn’t try to knock on her door again, and she had no trouble falling right back into deep, blissful sleep.

Her alarm woke her, bright and early in the morning. Feeling rested, she sat up in bed and stretched her arms up over her head.

Time to get the day started!

(And not at the ridiculous hour of the middle of the damn _night_.)

Once she dressed, it was time to get started on her patrol. She stuffed a handful of granola into her mouth on the way out, and yanked her front door open.

“OH CAPTAIN UNDYNE, YOU’RE FINALLY AWAKE! GOOD MORNING!”

It was the skeleton. He seemed just as bright-eyed and awake as he’d been hours ago. Undyne froze in place, blinking at him.

Was he…?

“Dude. Did you seriously wait out here all night?”

“OF COURSE!” He seemed neither proud nor ashamed of it, as if it had been only logical for him to remain outside of her house, until she got up in the morning. “I FIGURED THAT YOU NEEDED SOME TIME TO THINK ON IT, SO I DECIDED TO WAIT HERE UNTIL YOU MADE YOUR DECISION! I REALLY WOULD LIKE TO BE IN THE ROYAL GUARD, AND I’M EXCITED TO HEAR YOUR ANSWER!”

“Oh my god.” Undyne couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. What a weirdo! Who in their right mind would stake out someone’s house for hours in the night, without sleep or anything to entertain themselves?

She had to be impressed.

“What’s your name again, dude?” she asked once she managed to stop laughing, settling her hands on her hips.

The skeleton drew himself up, standing straight and tall, mirroring her stance. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAPTAIN!”

Undyne grinned. “Well, Papyrus, I think the Guard could use some members with that much dedication to the cause! I’m not saying you’re _in_ , because you still gotta go through the normal recruitment process, but I’ll sign you up for some intense training. Think you can handle it?”

Papyrus gaped, his eye sockets growing wide and—was that a _sparkle_ in their dark depths?

“YES! OF COURSE! I AM YOURS TO TRAIN! I WILL BE THE BEST TRAINEE TO EVER BE TRAINED BY THE TRAINERS!”

Undyne laughed at that. What a funny dude. She reached out a hand, and he took it with an enthusiastic squeeze. Hopefully he put this much energy into his fighting as he did into impressing her.

“Well then! I can’t wait to see what ya can do, soldier!”


	6. Teleportin' His Way Into Your Heart (and The Kitchen Counter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is the best big brother in the world, as he knows and as Dad always tells him! So naturally, he’ll be the bestest brother-sitter as well! Even if Sans sometimes seems determined to foil him in his efforts, the silly baby. (Papyrus still loves him though, and refuses to ever let Sans go without knowing that). Everything will be fine! Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to check out [my tumblr ](https://aroseandapen.tumblr.com/)where I take requests and sometimes write quick drabbles that come to mind.

Papyrus wrapped his arms securely around his brother’s tiny ribcage, grunting as he heaved him up into his arms. It was difficult when he was almost as small as the baby was, but it was nothing that the great Papyrus couldn’t handle! Sans didn’t seem to mind. He waved his arms as Papyrus carried him out of the living room, but other than that didn’t move much. Which was good, because Papyrus didn’t know if he could carry him if Sans was wriggling and trying to get dropped.

When he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, he slumped, setting Sans onto the ground with as much care as a young monster could have.

“THERE! WE ARE HERE! THIS IS THE KITCHEN, SANS!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide in a grand gesture toward the room they’d entered.

Sans stared up at him, eyelights wide and bright in his sockets, not deigning to look at the room around him. Instead, he reached up to grab at him, tiny phalanges clumsily clenching at air. “pap-a.”

An unfortunate utterance, not at all Papyrus’ name. Dad had told him that it was baby-speak, though, and that ‘Papyrus’ was too much of a mouthful for a skeleton as young as Sans was. So Papyrus would forgive it for now, even if he worried that by ignoring it he’d turn Sans into a lazy bones who didn’t say anything right. He knelt down on the tile floor, letting Sans catch hold of one of his fingers.

“IT’S PAPYRUS, YOU SILLY MONSTER,” he corrected, keeping his tone light so that Sans wouldn’t think that he was being scolded. Babies were so  _sensitive_ , as Papyrus had learned.

“pap-a!” Sans repeated, and brought the finger he gripped to his mouth.

Papyrus jumped as Sans nibbled on his finger. He made a noise of disgust, yanking his hand away. “EW! THAT IS NOT FOOD, SANS!”

Sans made a choking gasp sound, eyelights vanishing in shock at his brother’s sharp tone. Papyrus regretted his reaction immediately. Before he could do anything to fix it, however, wobbly pinpricks of light returned to the dark sockets and Sans began to wail.

“OH, NO NO, SH SHH, DON’T CRY BROTHER!” Oh he’d royally messed that up. Papyrus threw an anxious glance through the entrance of the kitchen, to the far end of the house where Dad’s door was shut. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Sans! What if Dad came out and discovered how horrible a big brother Papyrus was being? “PLEASE, PLEASE, SHH, IT’S OK SANS, HERE!”

Papyrus got to his feet, and very awkwardly wrapped his arms around Sans. He hauled him up into the air, tucking him against his shoulder. Through his wailing, Sans still wrapped his arms and legs around his brother, like a tiny little koala. Papyrus pet shushed him, rocking back and forth and murmuring reassurances to him.

Much to his relief, the crying eventually ceased. There was a pressure on his collarbone, a tiny grinding as Sans nibbled on it. Papyrus shivered, utterly disgusted by having a baby use him as a teether, but he allowed it for a few moments more. He didn’t want to set Sans off again. Only when he was completely sure that Sans would not start up his cries again did Papyrus kneel down once again to set his baby brother on the floor.

“I BET YOU’RE HUNGRY WITH ALL OF THIS CHEWING ON STUFF!” he chirped out, making sure to smile down at Sans. The only response he got was a frown and a bit of fussing. Sans didn’t like being left on the floor, evidently, but it had to be done if Papyrus was to get him lunch. He wished that he could communicate that to a young monster that couldn’t even speak. “YOU STAY HERE, SANS, AND I WILL GET YOU SOMETHING TO EAT!”

Sans whined, reaching for Papyrus. He overbalanced himself, and gasped in surprise as he tipped right over onto his belly. Papyrus hovered over him, afraid that he might’ve hurt himself with the fall. Fortunately, no. Even better, Sans seemed to have found the new position even better than the last, and the baby busied himself with knocking his phalanges against the tiles, preoccupied with the rhythmic clicking sounds it made.

Papyrus sighed in relief. Good.

Satisfied that Sans would keep himself entertained, Papyrus turned to face his most daunting baby-watching challenge yet—the kitchen counters. If he stood tiptoe, then he would be just barely able to grasp at the top. It was useful, but only if what he needed was set right on the edge for him to reach up and swipe. In this case, it just wasn’t enough. From what he’d seen of Dad making their meals and putting groceries away, anything he’d want to feed Sans would be in the upper cabinets, far out of a young skeleton’s reach. Papyrus would have to get creative.

He glanced around the kitchen—ah! Papyrus dragged a chair over to the counter and hopped up onto it, feet kicking wildly as he pulled himself up onto it. Perfect. Now he’d be able to climb up and get some food for Sans and—.

Papyrus climbed onto his feet, turning to face the counter. Shining eyelights stared back at him. He yelped, almost tipping right off the chair. His hands found the countertop, steading him before he could take a dramatic fall.

“SANS!” How did a baby get up there before him? Papyrus glanced back behind him, to where he’d left his brother. Sure enough, the spot of the floor was empty. He looked back to Sans, horrified. “HOW DID YOU GET UP HERE?”

_Thunk_! His answer was a tiny fist shoved through his eye socket.

“GUH! SANS, NO!” A shiver ran down his spine at the invasive hand. He could feel the tickle on the inside of his skull as Sans wiggled his phalanges inside. No, no, it felt so weird!

Papyrus whined, wanting very much to cry as he freed his skull of Sans’ exploring hand. “NO, SANS, THAT IS BAD!”

Sans leaned forward, waving his arms in protest. The motion tilted him over the edge, and Papyrus felt his soul stutter-stop. He stood on his tip-toes, wrapping his arms around Sans to haul him off the counter. Holding his baby brother left him swaying on the chair, legs trembling as he realized that he now had to get down without falling or dropping Sans. He swallowed, magic stirring anxiously in his soul.

How he wished that he had the skills in blue magic that Dad had. He’d have no problem. All Dad had to do was wrap their souls in blue magic and float the two of them safely to the ground.

Unfortunately Papyrus did _not_  possess that much skill yet, and he didn’t have the time to practice. He’d have to make do with what he did have. Taking in a few shaky breaths, Papyrus took slow, shifting motions as he lowered himself into a sitting position. Sans squirmed in his hold, making him slip in Papyrus’ hold. He squeezed down hard enough to drag a displeased whine from his brother.

“SORRY, SANS, SORRY!” He worried that he might be hurting Sans with how tight he was holding him. It’d be worth it, though, if the two of them got down safely.

His tailbone hit the chair, and Papyrus almost cried in relief. From there it was easy to just slip off, and then both he and Sans were safe on the ground once again. He set Sans down, crumpling down next to him.

“OH MY GOD, SANS, I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU GOT UP THERE, BUT DON’T DO IT AGAIN! OK?” he scolding, knowing full well that Sans wouldn’t understand him.

Instead, though, Sans cooed out, dropping forward to lay down across Papyrus’ chest. He turned his head so that he could look at Papyrus with big, round eye sockets, completely unaware of the fright that he had just given his brother. After a short moment of staring, his sockets squeezed shut as he yawned, face pinched.

The yawn ended and his brother’s face smoothed out. His eye sockets remained closed. Instead of trying to get up off of Papyrus, Sans snuggled his cheekbone into his chest.

So much for lunch, then.

Papyrus sighed and rested his hand on Sans’ back, resigning himself to spending the next hour or so laying on the kitchen floor. It was better than trying to climb up onto the counter only to find his baby brother perched in a precarious position on said counter, he supposed. Or having his bones chewed on by a teething brother. There was no way that Sans could get in trouble in his sleep. When Dad was finished with work then he would see how good and quiet that Sans was being and he would tell Papyrus what a great big brother he was! Even if lying down on the hard surface was uncomfortable, and already his bones were aching.

Nothing he could do about that, though. He settled in for the wait, rubbing his hand over Sans’ back. Sans’ breathing slowed, until it was a gentle rise and fall of his back beneath Papyrus’ hand. His own sockets felt heavy. Staying so still cast a lethargy over his bones and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Sleeping in the middle of the day was something for babies and lazy kids, not a great and busy big brother such as Papyrus. Even if, he thought with a yawn, lying there was incredibly boring and he  _did_ go through a great amount of work that surely deserved rest.

No matter how… how heavy his eyes felt. Even if his… sockets fluttered… and the image of the ceiling blurred and he went cross eyed. No… No sleeping!… At all…

When their father eventually emerged from his office, he found his boys still on the kitchen floor, curled up into each other and fast asleep. He smiled, gingerly scooping the two up into his arms to relocate them onto a more comfortable surface—the couch would do. Laying them back down, he couldn’t help but press his teeth to the tops of their skulls, a kiss to each of his sons. They were too precious to resist. Before he left them to their nap he took a picture—for future fawning over his adorable children.

And when they were older, for future blackmail. Of course.


	7. How to Almost Feel Emotions (Kinda Sorta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Papyrus is his favorite monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time actually writing from Flowey's POV. I'd like to do it more sometime.
> 
> (Warning: Brief mention of dismemberment.)

Papyrus had an infectious cheer about him.

Rather, it  _would_  be, if he could feel emotions. A bitter pill to swallow, but that was life for him since waking up as a flower. Yet when Papyrus laughed from pure and utter delight, Flowey found that it echoed in the void that his lack of soul left behind, giving him something  _close_  to what he remembered happiness felt like.

It was dull and almost disappointing if he expected true emotion, but Flowey decided that it was close enough.

That enthusiasm made Papyrus a favorite of his. Interacting with him hadn’t yet gotten boring, when most other monsters grew exhausting to run through the same dialogue, the same motions as ever. He never knew exactly what to expect from the skeleton on many of his runs, and while he knew the eventual boredom was inevitable, and he shouldn’t waste the novelty while it still existed, but he was hooked. He wanted to know everything there was to know about the monster, right down to his favorite food.

(It was oatmeal, by the way, with the little dinosaur eggs in it.)

When Flowey learned how painfully lonely Papyrus was, with one single friend to his name (aside from himself on occasion), he made it his mission over the next couple runs to get Papyrus some friends. He inserted himself in among them, encouraging him, and found just how attached Papyrus could get from the numerous times he made a ‘Flowey Fan Club’. And Flowey had to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the admiration, even if his giggles ultimately felt empty.

He succeeded at last, and for a good ten minutes Flowey basked in just how excited and wildly happy it made Papyrus to gain so many friends so quickly. It felt… good, he thought. At least as close to good as a soulless flower could get.

Then the ten minutes passed and Flowey was empty once again. It wasn’t fun anymore, he realized. Where could he go from there, after he’d already achieved the highest point for his favorite toy?

He tried to ignore the truth, but in the end the answer was obvious. From the highest, he went to the lowest point. Take every bit of happiness away, until his toy was broken and face blank–or until he looked at Flowey with the utter betrayal of one of his only two friends literally tearing him limb from limb. Papyrus’ use wasn’t yet completely exhausted, and Flowey was sure that his friend would be  _happy_  to know that he could still make Flowey almost feel again. That was just the selfless sort of monster that Papyrus was, he told himself.

(And anyway, he reasoned, he’d always be able to go back and make Papyrus smile again.)


	8. The Snow is Always Neater on the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a secret santa event on tumblr.
> 
> The skelebros hanging out at home on Christmas

The door flew open, banging against the adjacent wall and making the room’s walls tremble with the force of it. Yet not a peep came from the blanket-clad lump on the bed. The lump remained so still that the ceiling could come down on top of it and it would not even stir.

“SANS!!”

Only then did the lump move, and the blanket tugged down just enough for the top half of Sans’ skull to peep out over the top of it, eye sockets half-closed and hazy eyelights staring in the direction of the door. Even with his mouth concealed, the shape of his eye sockets and lazy drawl when he spoke hinted at a lazy grin underneath the blanket. “sup, bro.”

“ _SNOW_ , SANS, THAT’S WHAT IS ‘SUP’!” Papyrus exclaimed, still standing in the doorway, hands on his hips. “COME ON, GET UP, IT SNOWED!”

Sans flopped over, wiggling and kicking at his blanket until he freed himself from its (warm, toasty) clutches. It slid off the bed, heaping in a pile on the floor next to it. He left it there, pushing up into a sitting position and blinking until his eyelights fully formed and the sight of Papyrus at the other end of the room at last swam into focus. Other than that, he made no moves to get up, reclining against the wall behind his bed. Just enough movement to prevent Papyrus from marching over to him and yanking the blanket from him and forcing him to greet the sunlight streaming in through his blinds.

He should get some curtains, he thought idly as he gazed across the room toward his brother. Not that Papyrus would go for that, with how he already hated how much Sans ‘dallied’ in bed each and every day. He’d just tell Sans that if anyone didn’t need a bit of help with sleeping, then it would be Sans. Which he had a point; Sans was an excellent sleeper. He could do it with his eyes closed.

Heh.

What was his brother shouting about again? Oh right, snow.

“bro that’s nothin’ new. we lived in  _snow_ din, ‘member?” His grin widened. “the white stuff’s _snow_ problem.”

In any case, now that he felt more awake and aware of the world, he remembered that it was Christmas Day. He should’ve expected Papyrus to come barging into his room, as he did every year since Papyrus was old enough to walk. And every day for that matter, when he thought that Sans was taking too long to wake up, but on Christmas it was a special sort of barging. Festive barging, yeah. And Sans would’ve thought that his brother would be more excited to open his gifts from Santa, rather than work himself up over a bit of frozen water. Not that Sans denied that snow could be fun to play in, but they’d dealt with it every day of their lives while they’d lived in Snowdin. By the time that the barrier had broken and they were on the Surface, snow didn’t seem half so magical as it had once upon a time.

Papyrus remained undeterred by the reminder. He crossed his arms and huffed, as if he couldn’t believe in Sans’ lack of excitement as much as Sans couldn’t believe in his brother’s excess of it. “BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT. THIS IS SURFACE SNOW! I’VE BEEN TOLD THAT SOMETIMES IT LASTS ONLY MINUTES! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? WE MUST INVESTIGATE IMMEDIATELY, BEFORE WE LOSE THIS CHANCE FOREVER!”

Sans’ grin widened when Papyrus ended without a bit of indignation. Just when he thought he’d gotten away with the pun completely, Papyrus caught the look on his face. A moment passed without comprehension. Silence, running through the conversation in his mind. Then Papyrus’ face twisted.

“ARE YOU—UGH, REALLY SANS!! AT LEAST COME UP WITH NEW JOKES!! IF I HAVE TO HEAR THAT SAME DUMB SNOW PUN EVERY TIME IT SNOWS THEN I’LL—I’M GOING TO—.” Papyrus floundered, searching for an appropriate threat. “I’M GOING TO TURN EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF YOUR SOCKS. INSIDE. OUT!”

“oh  _no._ ”

“OH YES.”

Well how could Sans defend against such dirty tactics? He had only one thing in his arsenal to counter, which he launched at his brother with a sly turn of his mouth.

“here i thought a familiar pun about the snow would be _ice_  to hear,” he said, leaning against the wall behind his bed. “didn’t realize you’d give me the _cold_ shoulder over it.”

In an instant, Sans’ vision was filled with his brother’s furious expression. In the next, black.

“SAAAAAAANS!”

He laughed, pulling the pillow his brother had hit him with from his face. Papyrus perched on the edge of his mattress frowning hard, but Sans could see it twitch as if to betray Papyrus with the amusement he actually felt. Sans considered it a win; Christmas was a success as far as he was concerned, no matter what happened next.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU, SANS!”

“aw don’t be like that, bro. i see you trying not to smile,” Sans teased, patting the side of Papyrus’ skull, just before his brother shoved the pillow back into his brother’s face.

“YOU. ARE. INSUFFERABLE.”

“love you too, bro,” he said, voice muffled into the pillow. He tugged at the pillow until he could peek out at Papyrus over the top of it. “so, we’re checkin’ out the snow?”

Papyrus released his grip on the pillow and bounced up onto his feet. His stubborn frown flipped into a bright smile, with Sans’ transgressions forgotten. “YES! COME ON SANS, LET’S GO!” And he was already out the door before Sans could even get out of bed.

Sans couldn’t help but smile, slipping his feet into his sneakers—Papyrus would seethe about his lack of socks, he imagined to his amusement—and pulled on a jacket. He saw no need to change when he’d probably end up wet and covered in snow by the time they came inside. Only then did he shuffle off in Papyrus’ tracks, going past their Christmas tree with its pile of presents set underneath, finding him standing just outside their open front door. And if he was the reason for an intense snowball fight breaking out between the two of them, well, Papyrus had wanted to investigate the snow, and Sans saw no better way than to pack some into a ball and test it’s breaking properties against the closest target.

His brother’s indignant squawk was worth the pile of snow dunked over his head. And when Sans snuck a handful into Papyrus’ scarf, the startling beginning to his morning was all but forgotten.

Papyrus had that effect on him, such a cool guy, he was. Sans didn’t know what he’d do without that enthusiastic shouting in his ear, and his equally passionate reactions to Sans’ jokes. So cool.

(So cool that he was  _ice cold_ even, now that he had snow down the back of his shirt. Sans couldn’t remember the last time he doubled over in laughter like that, watching Papyrus holler and stamp around trying to shake it out again.)

An hour later found them back inside, shivering with cold and changed out of damp clothes. Sans sat at the table, his blanket rescued from his bedroom floor and wrapped securely around him. He kept his hands within as he reached out for one of the two mugs of hot cocoa in Papyrus’ hands, cradling it close once it was safe between them both. He went to take a drink as Papyrus sat at the chair across from him, but something glinted in the hot chocolate that gave him pause.

Sans peered into his cup. The dark surface sparkled with pink and orange that he didn’t think belonged to the cocoa powder. He raised both brows, eyelights darting up to his brother’s face and hazarded a guess. “glitter?”

“IT’S EDIBLE GLITTER,” Papyrus told him without missing a beat. “I GOT IT FROM A BAKERY. THEY PUT IT ON CAKES AND STUFF.”

“ah, cool.” His shoulders relaxed. Not that he believed that Papyrus would intentionally put anything like plastic or such into a drink, but he’d experienced more than one dinner disaster in the name of Papyrus’ creative ‘explorations’ of his craft. Actual glitter from an art store wouldn’t be so far-fetched by comparison. “it looks like something metta would make, bro.”

Sans knew the idea must come from the MTT cooking shows that his brother watched religiously. It was Mettaton’s signature addition to any dish. Indeed, Papyrus’ dark sockets lit up at his observation. He sat up in his chair a little straighter, one of his long legs elegantly folded over the other. Sans could imagine his brother preparing to answer a question in a talk show, and he hoped to see that image on the TV screen one day.

“THAT WAS WHERE MY INSPIRATION CAME FROM, YES!” Papyrus sounded pleased for him to have made the connection. He gave Sans an eager grin. “WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

Sans hadn’t even tried it yet. He hummed a neutral response, bringing the mug to his teeth and tilting it toward him. The liquid filled his mouth, coating the back of his teeth, and vanished into his magic before it could seep out between the spaces of his bones. He couldn’t taste the glitter on it at all. Another hum escaped him, this one more content as the heat suffused his icy bones.

“it’s real good, bro.” Perhaps a bit too rich for his tastes, but Papyrus was getting better with his recipes every day. The compliment made Papyrus’ eyes shine, his dark eye sockets filled with warmth. He didn’t understand the purpose of the glitter in the hot cocoa, when it didn’t change the taste and Sans didn’t care for presentation, but he didn’t say anything about it. Whatever made his brother happy.

“GOOD! I’M GLAD!” he exclaimed, before at last taking a long drink from his own mug.

From there they fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the hot drink in their hands. Sans didn’t know how much time passed, but he didn’t feel inclined to break the peace.

That is, until he reached the end of his drink and a sudden thought occurred to him. He set his mug on the table with a hard clunk, and his arms at last emerged from the cocoon of warmth that was his blanket.

“well, we should probably actually get to those presents from santa at some point this christmas, huh?”


End file.
